


One of Many

by OwlosaurusRex



Series: Metal Gear Drabbles [3]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Blood, I'll have to edit tags as I go, I'm making it up as I go, M/M, Mature/explicit content in later chapters, Medical Inaccuracies, Mild Gore, Multi, might become bosselhira
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6032416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlosaurusRex/pseuds/OwlosaurusRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is going to be more or less a collection of connected drabbles and scenes. There isn't necessarily an overarching plot since I'll just be writing in response to different scenes in MGSV as I play. There will be lots of fluff and shippy stuff and I have plans for nsfw scenes. This is the first thing I've written in a long time so lets hope it goes alright~</p><p>Note: Thought I should mention that I personally believe that Kaz lost his limbs as a result of the helicopter accident in Ground Zeroes. I guess not everyone believes that so figured I should make it clear so as to avoid any confusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Second Homecoming

The orange and black steel of Mother Base gleamed in the spotty morning sunlight while wispy clouds cast shadows over the solitary platform. Snake was still having trouble accepting the fact that it had been nine years since the attack on the original base of operations and that this small scrap of metal was their new Outer Heaven, their home. Kaz had worked hard for this place and it showed in every room and corridor, and in every soldier that stopped to salute their boss and Ocelot on their tour through the facility. Kaz and Ocelot both gave their all for this place and for him. Perhaps that realization shouldn’t have affected Snake as much as it did and perhaps he was still recovering from his long absence but to be _home_ again offered more relief than he’d expected.

While the sight of Mother Base had been a welcome surprise, Snake couldn’t truly appreciate the Diamond Dogs’ accomplishments, at least not with an injured Kaz at his side and the lingering images of his second-in-command sitting limp in the sandy corner of a building, his face dirty and swollen. Snake didn’t like how close they’d cut it. If he’d taken any longer odds were high he wouldn’t have found Kaz in time. He would have failed more than just a mission, he would have failed the entirety of the Diamond Dogs, all these men, and worst of all he would have failed Kaz.

Ocelot stopped a few steps in front of him and Snake followed suit, mostly acting on instinct as his mind cycled through the events of the past week or so, trying to make sense of everything from the time he escaped the hospital to the time he set foot on Mother Base. Snake had been following Ocelot through the various tight halls and cold steel rooms of the command platform, only half listening to his comrade’s continuous recital of information. It was difficult to focus on Ocelot’s voice when there were so many other pressing matters vying for attention and with all that pressure building in his brain he could hear the blood pounding in his ears and feel a sharp pain behind his eyes.

“So, Boss, what do you think?”

Snake looked around the mess hall absently, thinking of the way Kaz had acted, how he handled himself. He’d changed so much since the attack.

“Boss?”

Ocelot’s voice was lost on him and Snake sighed as thoughts of the helicopter accident came to mind. Of Chico and Paz…

“Snake…”

The weight of Ocelot’s hand on his shoulder brought Snake back to the present and he looked from the red leather glove up to Ocelot’s face.

“I think that’s all we need to see for today,” he said and Snake could tell by the slight narrowing of Ocelot’s eyes that the man was trying to read him. “Well, maybe just one more room. I imagine Miller’s been taken care of by now so showing you our temporary sickbay shouldn't be a problem.”

Ocelot let his hand fall from Snake’s shoulder and nodded to a door across the mess hall.

“Temporary?” Venom’s voice was low and especially coarse from disuse and exhaustion. His travels through Afghanistan had been more tiring than he liked to admit. Ocelot led them out to the stairs, the spurs on his boots jangling with each step.

“Yeah. It’s a bit on the small side but we don’t have the means or the demand to expand it at the moment. We’re still a small operation and fewer men means fewer injured.” Ocelot stopped on the third landing and turned down a dim hallway, weaving deeper into the metal maze of rooms and offices. “I bet Miller is giving the medical team a run for their money, though,” he said and glanced back at Snake when they reached a door with a large red cross on it.

“You think? Looked like he was handling himself well enough.”

Ocelot flashed a quick, small smirk. “That’s my point. You know how he is. Enough energy to speak means enough energy to put up a fuss, and that’s what he does best,” he said and opened the door without going inside. “At any rate, I’ll leave you to it. I’d best make sure everything’s in order before Miller gets back on his feet or we’ll all pay for it.”

That won a small huff of amusement from Snake and Ocelot’s smirk returned before he turned to disappear down the hallway.

Snake watched him go for a moment, the sound of his boots gradually fading away and leaving Snake alone in the doorway with only the smell of disinfectant and the occasional clatter of medical materials as company. Something about the sickbay made Snake tense. Maybe it was the quiet atmosphere or the harsh lighting, or maybe it was just the too-fresh memory of the carnage he’d witnessed as he escaped the hospital, but whatever the reason, walking inside took some effort. The room was smaller than he’d anticipated even with Ocelot’s explanation and it only took a few steps past the threshold for the members of staff to notice his presence. Snake was quick to quiet their excitement with a wave of his hand and eyed the rows of beds and white curtains.

“You’re here for Commander Miller?” An older man emerged from the cluster and tugged his medical mask down so he could speak clearly. Snake gave a short nod and the doctor waved for him to follow as he stepped down the center of the room. The doctor was a short man, stout and balding, but appeared efficient in the way that he walked and didn't miss a step while chucking his gloves in a bin at the foot of one of the empty beds.

“We put him near the back to avoid disturbing him with other patients,” the doctor explained and slowed at one of the last beds on the left, the curtain pulled closed to help block out the lights. “He was severely dehydrated and suffered some bruised ribs among other things but, generally speaking, he looked good considering what he’d been through. He’ll be needing plenty of rest, though, Boss.” The doctor paused to look up at Snake with a small frown, knowing full well that the Boss wouldn't have a problem with Kaz resting, but Kaz himself was likely to fight such a diagnosis.

Snake nodded in understanding. “He’ll rest,” he said firmly and reached for the curtain so he could peek inside at his second-in-command surrounded by various machines. Kaz looked much thinner like this, lying still with wires and IV’s disappearing under his blankets and an oxygen mask over his face. Thinner and almost frail.

“Well, there’s no doubt that he will if _you_ tell him to. He might even take his medications regularly now that you’re back,” the doctor said and pulled the curtain open when Snake made no move to do so, stepping past it and eyeing the machines closely.

“Medications?” Snake spoke quietly as he hovered at the foot of the bed and watched the unsteady shuddering of Kaz’s breathing.

The doctor nodded and took up a clipboard as he continued his inspections.

“What kinds of medications?”

The doctor stopped and looked up from the IV bags he was checking and appeared momentarily conflicted as if he wasn't sure if he should tell the Boss or not. His loyalty to Snake must have won over his professionalism because he ultimately answered.

“Nothing serious. I prescribed some painkillers, various vitamins and supplements of that sort, and some medications to help with his mood swings but he refuses to take them.” The doctor shrugged and pulled a pen from the front pocket of his scrubs to scrawl something on Kaz’s medical documents. Snake stared down at Kaz’s pale face and sighed at the thought of a stubborn Miller refusing any and all help in his angry dash for revenge.

“Don’t worry about his medications,” Snake said and stepped around to drag a small wooden guest chair up to the bed on Kaz’s left side. The doctor didn't say anything else on the matter and simply nodded while returning the clipboard to its place.

“Commander Miller has been in and out for the last hour so don’t be too surprised if he wakes up but isn't entirely coherent. The sedatives will make him a little...hazy.” The doctor stepped back through the curtain before glancing at Snake. “I have some other work to attend to so I’ll leave him to you. Don’t worry about Miller, though, he’ll be just fine, Boss. I think we all will, now.” He paused to draw the curtains closed and flashed a quick, tired smile. “Just give us a little time.”

With that the doctor was gone, letting the curtains close behind him and sway slightly in his wake.

Snake stared at the white fabric for several long moments before looking back to Kaz. He looked just as bad as when Snake found him if not slightly cleaner. Most of the dirt had been washed from his face and the scrapes and lacerations around his swollen eye had been tended to and bandaged loosely, which left Kaz with a makeshift eyepatch of his own. It didn't suit him.

Snake shifted uncomfortably in his chair and couldn't help but feel responsible for Kaz’s plight. The bruising, the pain and hysteria in his voice, it was all on one level or another Snake’s fault and he knew that he didn't deserve forgiveness. The past was solid and immovable but the future was wide open and full of opportunity. He’d do things right, he’d make Mother Base strong again and keep his men safe. He’d do it for Kaz; Kaz and all of his Diamond Dogs.

Snake took in a deep breath as his head began to throb again, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to try and relieve the tension in his neck and the strain on his nerves. There was a lot that needed tending to and with his brain still in shambles from his nine year rest he found it easy to fall victim to doubt if he didn't keep his guard up. One thing at a time for now. Get Kaz on his feet and build Mother Base’s resources first and expand from there. Things would never be like they were before but that wouldn't stop Snake from making the Diamond Dogs the best they could be.

Snake wasn't sure how long he sat there dozing in the midst of beeping machines and the distant scuff of shoes on metal floors but it didn't take much to gain his attention. He could hear the change in Kaz’s breathing muffled by the oxygen mask but didn't actually open his eyes until he felt the touch of cold fingers on his hand. The world seemed dim in that moment, gray and fuzzy as it usually was when he woke in the mornings, yet it was surprisingly easy to pick Kaz’s pale eye squinting up at him through locks of dirty blonde hair. Kaz’s mouth was moving, forming words he didn't actually speak until Snake caught his weak hand in his own to keep it from slipping away.

“Boss?” Kaz gave Snake’s hand a hesitant squeeze as if he weren't entirely convinced that what he was seeing was true. Nine years of impatient waiting and misleading dreams seemed to have taken a toll on the man, wearing down his trust and making it all the more difficult to believe that something positive had happened for once. That this time Snake was real.

Snake frowned at the suspicion and worry that seemed permanently etched in Kaz’s features and shifted closer to the bed with a loud creak from his chair.

“It’s alright, Kaz. Try to relax.”

Kaz frowned at him, his eye narrowed to a fine, pale slit as he studied him closely and only seemed to relax once Snake leaned in where he could be seen more clearly.

“Boss…you’re home.” He sighed deeply and Snake could hear his breath rattling beneath the oxygen mask. “It’s been so long...we have a lot to do.” Kaz’s apparent relief was short-lived and soon enough he was fidgeting in bed and looking around in confusion. “We’ve got to...get to work,” Kaz wheezed and struggled to sit up. “I need to check on development...construction--who’s been handling contracts…” Kaz nearly managed to lift his shoulders from the bed before Snake reached out to press a cold metal hand against his chest.

“You need to rest,” Snake said firmly and gently pinned Kaz to the bed despite the Commander’s weak scowl. “There will be time for that later.”

“I can handle it, Boss. I’m not that bad,” Kaz insisted but didn't bother resisting the pressure of Snake’s hand.

Snake sighed and let his hand move from Kaz’s chest to his face, cupping his bruised cheek gently and forcing him to focus.

“I know. But we can’t risk you getting worse. Just rest and I’ll take care of things.”

“But Boss--”

Snake silenced Kaz’s objections with a look that had Kaz glowering though his expression was notably softer than before. Kaz grew still and was quiet long enough that Snake was half convinced he’d dozed off.

“Whatever you say, Boss,” he rasped and turned his head slightly into Snake’s touch until the plastic of his mask bumped against Snake’s prosthetic. “Just...don't let me sleep too long. I’ve had nine years to ‘rest’ and...I’m tired of it.” Kaz gave Snake’s hand another squeeze but it was noticeably weaker.

Snake huffed slightly and dropped his hand from Kaz’s face to adjust his blanket, pulling it up over his chest.

“You and me both.” That won a small sound of amusement and Kaz simply stared at him for a moment, his expression twisted with the faintest hint of what could have been a smile.

“This reminds me of a time back in Costa Rica…” Kaz rasped and had to pause to steady his breathing. “You caught pneumonia. Do you remember? Only happened once.” His gaze wandered as he spoke, eventually landing on their hands as if he hadn’t fully realized they were touching. “You were really sick.”

“I…don’t remember that,” Snake said, honestly trying to think back to the warm shores of Costa Rica though his memories were spotty at best with some vivid scenes scattered among a dense fog of uncertainty. He shook his head and Kaz looked a little disappointed.

“Well, you refused to rest until you were dead on your feet,” Kaz grumbled and managed a glare. “I was convinced you were done for even if the doctors weren’t.”

“Glad to hear you had faith in me,” Snake said and Kaz chuckled.

“Faith doesn’t heal illnesses, Snake, and you were too stubborn to sit down for five minutes let alone rest a few _days_.”

“Yeah, well I did and I got better. Let that be an example.”

“Hah, you only stayed in bed cause you couldn’t move,” Kaz insisted and Snake arched a brow.

“I’m sure we could arrange that for you, if that’d work best.”

Kaz chuckled again more loudly this time until he started to cough. “What, you going to tie me to the bed?”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

Kaz glared but it lacked any real anger behind it and Snake couldn’t help a small smile. “That won’t be necessary,” Kaz assured him and Snake shrugged.

“Ultimately it’s up to you whether or not you want to make this easy on yourself. You’re going to rest either way so it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Okay, okay I get it.”

“Good.” Snake nodded definitively and watched as Kaz’s look of amusement dissolved under the weight of exhaustion and medications.

Kaz tried to speak again but Snake had difficulty making sense of his garbled speech and ultimately gave up trying, simply humming in recognition here and there instead. Eventually all signs of coherent words fell away and Kaz was left breathing deeply and blinking at him in a dazed state.

Snake watched him doze and drift and found himself thinking back to Costa Rica. He didn’t remember a lot of things and certainly didn’t remember getting sick but what he did remember was Kaz’s cocky grin and all the energy and _life_ he’d had. The man in front of him was so different, so worn and weary and angry that Snake hardly recognized him. This didn’t seem like the man who’d fall asleep in the hammock hung outside of their shared cabin or who dragged him out to the beach to watch the sunsets. Maybe that Kaz fell into the ocean with the original Mother Base, or maybe he was still in there somewhere, warped by all of the pain. Either way Snake couldn’t deny how good it felt to see Kaz again. Snake might not have felt those nine years like Kaz had but just knowing how much had passed him by made him miss his young Commander. And despite everything, all the carnage and struggle he’d endured to get here, Snake had to admit that he was glad to be home.


	2. Chapter 2

Night had fallen by the time Ocelot made his way back to the sickbay. He’d been busy since he left Snake to look after Miller and had been surprised at how quickly the day had slipped by. Ocelot had assumed that after keeping an eye on Miller for an hour or two the Boss would find his way back to his room and sleep but Snake wasn’t in his room when Ocelot came by and he wasn’t in the mess hall either. He wasn’t practicing with the few men on guard and Pequod hadn’t heard from him, which only left one logical option.

The sound of spurs felt outrageously loud in the quiet sickbay as Ocelot took his time stepping through the room. Most of the staff had retired for the night but the two men still on duty didn’t bother asking what he was doing there. They must have assumed that Ocelot would come by to pick up the Boss sooner or later. There were only two beds occupied in the sickbay and it wasn’t difficult to determine that Miller’s bed would be the furthest away from everything since the man could be such a handful.

Ocelot took his time in approaching the bed and wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when he looked past the curtain. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about the two of them throughout the day, thinking about the Boss, about Kaz, about the two in Costa Rica and their obvious closeness, but whatever decidedly _boyish_ jealousy he might have harbored fell flat as soon as he peeked in at the two men.

The space was dark save for the flickering lights on the various machines surrounding the bed and it was impossible to miss the Boss slumped over in a chair and snoring softly at Miller’s side. The image might have been cute if one could ignore Miller’s wheezing and how uncomfortable Snake looked bunched up on such a small chair, and for a moment Ocelot felt torn between sending the Boss off to bed or just bringing in a cot for him to sleep on. The significance of the situation wasn't lost on him. The last time the two of them had been in a hospital together Kaz woke up to find the Boss gone, whisked away somewhere safe yet out of reach, so to take the Boss away again seemed a bit cruel even if the circumstances were far different than before.

Ocelot stepped inside the curtains and took a few moments to consider his options. Either way required waking Snake and that in and of itself offered its own challenges, but ultimately the Boss’ well-being took precedence over Kaz’s feelings. It was as simple as that.

While Ocelot noticed the close proximity both when Snake first brought Kaz back to Mother Base and then here in the sickbay, he almost missed their hands. As he drew closer he could see Kaz’s pale arm reaching and his hand starting to slip from the Boss’ grasp, their fingers still touching but not laced tightly enough to keep them that way.

_How...quaint._

Ocelot’s first instinct was to tuck Kaz’s arm back under the blankets but he hesitated to disturb even the slightest of connections between the two. Where Ocelot had the chance to visit the Boss over the last nine years, Kaz hadn’t, so Ocelot didn't blame him for being a bit clingy. Perhaps it was best to let the Boss handle that particular detail.

 Stepping up beside the Boss, Ocelot reached out to gently touch his shoulder with one hand and his cheek with the other.

“Boss.” He spoke in a quiet yet firm voice, hoping it might puncture whatever thick daze accompanied Snake’s sleep. When Snake failed to respond beyond the slight twitch of his brow Ocelot took his face in both hands and gave his cheek a little pat. “Boss, you need to get up.”

 Snake flinched, a full-body reaction that had Ocelot ready for some form of retaliation but nothing came. Snake’s body tensed but he didn't move aside from blinking up at Ocelot with the most unsettling stare. Ocelot knew he wasn't fully conscious yet and that only made the glassy look in his eye all the more unnerving. He stroked Snake’s cheek with a gloved thumb and leaned in closer so Snake might focus on him.

 “John? I need you to wake up, John. Can you hear me?”

 It wasn't surprising that Snake was a little ”twitchy” in his sleep these days and took a bit longer than usual to wake up but it _was_ troubling. Ocelot didn't like the unpredictable element involved with the Boss’ head trauma but didn't voice his concerns. He’d settle for quiet observation for now and hope that any quirks were temporary side effects.

 “John…”

 Snake blinked up at Ocelot with a growing sense of awareness, a light in his eye that gradually brought him into focus until Snake was awake enough to frown at him. “There you are. I was starting to think you were ignoring me on purpose,” Ocelot joked and only made Snake look all the more confused.

 “Ocelot...what are you talking about?” Snake closed his eye tightly for a moment and Ocelot was a bit relieved to feel the weight of his Bionic hand on his arm. Seeing the Boss move and speak still had a certain thrilling quality after waiting so long. Years of seeing him still and comatose made it easy to appreciate even something as small as a tug on his sleeve.

“You fell asleep looking after Miller. I thought you might appreciate sleeping in a bed rather than a chair, though.” Ocelot dropped one hand from Snake’s face at a time, lingering longer than necessary. Snake didn’t seem to mind or even notice the prolonged connection, too preoccupied with the sudden realization of his whereabouts.

Ocelot leaned back as Snake straightened in his chair with a grunt of discomfort and looked down just in time to catch Kaz’s hand from slipping away entirely. It was interesting to see Snake in these moments, the hazy ones after waking where nothing was quite right and the man lacked his usual cool facade. Seeing the emotions on Snake’s face was odd but also strangely satisfying. It was good to remember the man was _human_ after all.

Snake stared at Kaz’s hand in confusion and what looked like some form of guilt? Sympathy? Now _that_ was interesting.

“How long have I been here?” The Boss must have been aware of Ocelot’s staring because he was quick to distract. Ask questions and maybe the cat wouldn’t notice how his thumb brushed over Kaz’s knuckles or how gentle he was when he brought the Commander’s arm up to rest on the bed at his side.

 “A few hours now. Can’t say how long you’ve been asleep, though.”

 “Why didn’t anyone wake me?” Snake frowned but there didn’t seem to be any real anger behind his grumbling.

 “Well, I’m sure the staff thought you could use the sleep. Besides, you’re an awfully, uh, _deep_ sleeper these days. I wonder if they’d even be able to wake you up,” Ocelot said and arched a brow at the brief questioning look Snake flashed him.

 “Is that so?” Snake seemed to ponder that a moment before finally heaving himself up out of the chair. He looked stiff but alive and Ocelot was struck with the same overwhelmingly feeling of gratitude for that.

 “Well, I’m up now,” Snake mumbled and rubbed at his face. “But I can’t say that I want to be.”

Ocelot chuckled at that. “I don’t blame you. Come on, I’ll take you up to your room and get you settled.”

Snake nodded but didn’t actually make a move to leave. While he wasn’t looking at Kaz directly Ocelot knew the Commander was the reason behind Snake’s hesitancy.

 “Miller’s doing fine. The staff hasn’t reported any complications,” Ocelot offered and took a step away from the bed. He had yet to talk with the physicians about the exact details of Miller’s injuries but there would be time for that after the Boss was taken care of.

 “Right.” The Boss hesitated only a moment longer before turning his back on the bed and leaving Miller behind. Ocelot matched his gate easily enough and didn’t say anything more until they’d reached the staff housing.

 “Miller’s pretty resilient. You don’t have to worry about him.”

 “I know.”

 “But you still are.”

 Snake frowned and scanned each door as they passed, trying to commit the corridors to memory, maybe, or perhaps just trying to distract himself.

 “I have a lot of things to worry about, not just Kaz,” Snake said and Ocelot could hear the exhaustion in his voice growing thicker the further they walked. “Give me some time. I’ll manage.”

 By the time they reached the Boss’ room he looked as though the past week had sapped every ounce of life from him, or whatever life he had left after nine sedentary years, and Ocelot was quick to unlock the door for him.

 “Time…” Ocelot stepped aside and let Snake in first, the Boss not even bothering with a light as he made his way towards the bed and started removing sandy layers of clothing. “Now that we have Miller I think we can spare some time to recuperate,” Ocelot said and Snake grunted in what he assumed was agreement.

Turning on the lights, Ocelot stepped into the room after the Boss and let the door shut behind him. The room wasn’t anything special by any means but it did have its own bathroom and that in and of itself was a luxury and certainly something the Boss would grow to appreciate.

Ocelot stood there in silence a few moments, leaning a hip against the barren desk that sat in the corner of the room gathering dust. He watched the Boss shed his uniform more as a means of looking for injuries than for any personal satisfaction. He could see a few cuts and the extent of the bruising on his torso was a little surprising but not altogether something to worry about.

The Boss hardly seemed to notice he was there until he got up to shove his filthy uniform in a hamper near the bathroom door.

He looked up at Ocelot then down at himself. He was naked from the waist up, dirty, bruised, too thin, the harness for his prosthetic leaving raw patches on his skin, and he seemed to realize how bad he must look. Ocelot hated seeing him like this. Big Boss was alive but he had changed.

 “What about you?”

 Snake looked up from where he was picking at a scab on his arm and frowned at Ocelot in confusion.

 “What about me?”

 “How are _you_ feeling, Boss?” Ocelot knew the question would probably be met with grumbles or passed over altogether but it needed asking.

 “I’m fine, considering,” Snake said and shuffled aimlessly around the small space until he spotted his dresser and went over to rummage through the sparse clothes it held.

 “You’re sure?” Ocelot gave him another once over, eyeing the ridges of his spine and sighing.

 “I’m fine,” Snake said more firmly this time though when he looked back at Ocelot he seemed to reconsider his stubborn denial. Whatever clothes he’d been gathering were left in the dresser drawers and he abandoned any plans of cleaning up altogether in favor of sleep. He kicked his boots off and wasted little time in falling back on the mattress with a groan of pain and appreciation.

 “John.”

 Snake turned his head to look at Ocelot, frowning at the use of his name.

 “You say you’re fine, then I believe you. But you’re still recovering. If you’re ever _not_ fine I need to know that you’ll say something.” Ocelot stared him down with more intensity than he’d intended and Snake sighed in response.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll let you know,” he said in a voice nearly too quiet to hear, words too coarse to discern. Ocelot took a step closer to the bed, looked down at Snake with a curious mixture of relief and concern, glad to have him back, and worried of what the future held for a man who was much more fragile than before. A man they all had to remember was mortal after all.

It took a few moments for Ocelot to realize that Snake was staring back and when their eyes met Snake managed a small, awkward smile.

 “Are you going to watch me sleep now?”

 “Only if you let me hold your hand.” Snake snorted at that and it was Ocelot’s turn to smile. “But, in all seriousness, I can stay if you’d like.”

 Snake’s chuckles died away but his smile didn’t and he blinked up at Ocelot with an expression he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

 "Nah.” Snake ultimately gave his head a shake. “I’m fine. You don’t have to mother me, Ocelot.”

Ocelot raised his brows, a few choice remarks coming to mind though he managed to keep them at bay. “Whatever you say, Boss. In that case, I’ll see you in the morning.”

 “Yeah.”

 Ocelot shared another smile with him, welcomed the odd connection and turned to leave; stopping only when he’d opened the door to glance back at the Boss who’d already started to doze. It was certainly good to have him back but Ocelot couldn’t shake some strange feeling that something was different, changed. Head injuries and traumas could do that to a person, it wasn’t uncommon or unusual.

 Perhaps the Boss’ injuries had caused some sort of subduing effect on his personality. Maybe these quiet and more emotional vibes he’d been getting since he picked Snake up from the hospital were just a new facet of the Boss they’d have to get used to. He couldn’t say he’d mind all that much, he was still the Boss either way, but he’d have to get a new feel for him. He’d have to learn his behaviors all over again and that would take time.

 Stepping out of the room, Ocelot closed the door as quietly as possible and headed towards his own quarters.

 Time. After nine years of waiting time took on a whole new significance, a whole new meaning. It’d take time to figure Snake out again, this _new_ Snake, but it was an investment Ocelot was willing to make. He’d already given the man years of his life, why not a little more?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaz doesn't know what he wants anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late and I didn't get a chance to read this over too closely in terms of editing but I want to just post it anyway. Hopefully it reads well enough~  
> I've been working on some drabbles set in 1975 after the fall of Mother Base that might flesh out the OcelotxKaz relationship a little bit. I think those will make parts of these chapters more interesting. We'll see.

Kaz never fully realized just how many flights of stairs there were between the mess hall and staff housing until he was dragging himself up them step by wobbly step. He hadn't realized how out of shape he was either but somehow he managed the climb without dropping the plastic bag currently cutting into his wrist as it seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Honestly, he was pretty embarrassed about the whole thing, especially one particular stumble that still had his shins throbbing, but what the hell. It was worth it.

Stopping at the end of the hall for a few minutes, Kaz managed to catch his breath and he squinted through the late-night gloom made darker by his glasses. He could see well enough to maneuver the hallway and count the doors he passed in search of Snake’s room. It felt odd heading this way, having not had a reason to go beyond his own room since he had the place built, but strangely good at the same time. To know that the Boss would be on the other side of one of these doors put a little pep in his step and almost brought a smile to his face. Almost.

The Boss had been out in the field for days, hardly sparing the time for rest or a much-needed visit to Mother Base in his endeavor to gather as many resources for the Diamond Dogs as possible. He’d been scrounging up men and GMP at an astonishing rate and Kaz could say without any hesitation that he was impressed. It wasn't that he’d expected anything less, but he’d always imagined things would have went a little differently when the Boss woke up. He thought that Snake would need a little more rest, a little more care, but he wasn't complaining. Kaz just hoped the Boss didn't over do it.

It wasn't that Kaz was _worried_ about the Boss, at least not really. The Boss could handle himself just fine but it was impossible to shake a lingering sense of apprehension. He’d waited so long to get the Boss back and now that he was, Kaz didn't like having him out of sight for too long. Out of reach. _Do it for me_. Kaz had said that. He’d said it without thinking, without even considering how selfish that might sound. Though selfishness had never really bothered Kaz before, had it? This was different, though. He was different and so was Snake. Everything was different. Yeah, it was definitely selfish but Kaz couldn't help it. He couldn't help a lot of things these days.

Kaz took his time shuffling down the hallway and let his thoughts churn themselves up into a froth of regrets and concerns, mental notes, and reminders of impending deadlines, which nearly made him miss Snake’s room. He caught himself, however, and stared at the plain metal door.

It was no different than the others, nothing special or unique and yet it held so much importance. Well, maybe not so much to others but to _him_ it did. This was all that Kaz could offer Snake now, a place to live, a bed to sleep in. Sure they had a new Mother Base but the Boss was the one truly responsible for their growing ranks and the means to expand. Kaz could offer the template and some fragile feeling of safety but everything else was thanks in no small part to Snake. Even while in a coma he’d done work for them, his name and reputation alone allowing Kaz enough of a boost to get things moving. Without Big Boss they would be nothing.

Kaz shook his head at the thought, trying to keep himself from slipping into that dark place that had nearly swallowed him whole all those years ago, when he thought he’d lost everything. But he didn't lose everything, there was still hope of redemption. With that one final push at positivity Kaz managed to bring himself to knock, the plastic bag left to swing at his elbow.

There was no response. Kaz frowned and tried again, rapping his knuckles against the metal hard enough to sting but there was no sign of Snake. The lack of sound was what bothered him the most. He’d be fine if Snake told him to get lost or showed at least some indication that he’d heard him but the stark nothingness made Kaz tense. His mind instantly started drawing conclusions but he managed to ignore the worst of his paranoid tendencies. He’d seen Snake no more than 20 minutes ago when the Boss had arrived on base, and there was no reason at all to assume anything bad had happened. Sure Kaz hadn't actually spoken to him but he’d watched from a landing as Snake interacted with soldiers and spoke with Ocelot. He looked fine then, besides being a filthy mess, and had assured Kaz via iDroid that he hadn’t sustained any noteworthy injuries. So everything was fine. He was probably just sleeping or maybe he was still out and about on base and Kaz was working himself up over nothing. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

After a moment or two of reasoning with himself, Kaz reached out to try the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. It gave way easily under his hand though the hinges creaked with neglect.

“Uh, Snake?” Kaz called into the dim room, his eyes having difficulty picking out shapes in the darkness. When there was no immediate response he stepped inside, taking great care not to trip and stood awkwardly in the room. His first thought was to leave. He’d purposely avoided the room for years and now that he was inside he remembered why. It smelled overwhelmingly of dust and vacancy with only a hint of cigar smoke to suggest Snake had been there at all and while the main room was decidedly Snake-less, Kaz gradually became aware of the muffled sound of running water. The shower.

Kaz sighed heavily and felt embarrassed for ever having worried in the first place. Of course Snake would want to take a shower, they _all_ wanted Snake to take a shower, he didn't know why he hadn't considered that option to begin with. He needed to get ahold of himself.

With Snake’s whereabouts confirmed Kaz could relax a little and went about setting the plastic bag on Snake’s desk before hobbling over to shut the door. When his eyes refused to adjust any further in the poor lighting he decided to remove his glasses, if only for a second, and set them beside the bag. The next few minutes were filled with rustling plastic and the squeak of styrofoam as Kaz unpacked two containers and a set of silverware wrapped in thin napkins. He hoped the food hadn't gotten cold during his long trek up there but figured Snake would eat just about anything so it wouldn't matter too much. Kaz just wanted it to be good for him. The Boss deserved it.

While Kaz noticed when the sound of the shower stopped he didn't catch a single footstep on the metal floors or even a creak of the bathroom door and somehow forgot just how quiet the Boss could be.

“Kaz?”

He practically jumped at the sound of Snake’s voice just over his shoulder and very nearly lost his balance as he flinched away instinctively.

“Easy.” Snake was reaching out to him instantly, catching his shoulder in some attempt to keep him steady while Kaz groped at the desk for support.

“Jesus, Boss,” Kaz hissed and turned to glare at him with narrowed, pale eyes though his scowl was short-lived when he found himself face-to-face with an inexplicably naked Snake.

Kaz opened his mouth to speak but found nothing to say in the few moments it took his eyes to sweep over Snake’s body and his brain to realize that he was staring.

“Kaz, are you alright? I thought I heard a knock but--”

“I’m fine,” Kaz snapped slightly and made a point of looking down at the desk.

“You sure? Didn’t mean to startle you,” Snake said and Kaz could feel him squeeze his shoulder before he shrugged off his hand.

“I’m fine, everything's fine just--just go put some pants on. Please.” Kaz waved him off without looking at him but Snake didn't move right away, probably trying to piece together what exactly was happening. When Kaz continued to stare at the desk and groped around for his glasses, Snake finally just shrugged off his odd behavior and shuffled across his room to look for some clothes.

Kaz could feel his heart pounding in his chest and whether it was from fright or something else he didn't like it.

“I wasn’t expecting to find anyone in my room,” Snake said and Kaz cast him a glance, his hand still searching for his glasses tucked behind one of the styrofoam containers.

“Well, you shouldn't leave your door unlocked then.”

Snake huffed at that, walked back over to the desk clad in a fresh pair of briefs, and plucked Kaz’s aviators from their hiding place. He looked them over a moment before reaching out and tucking them away in the breast pocket of Kaz’s uniform.

“Hey--”

“It’s too dark in here for them, right? That’s why you took them off.”

Kaz frowned at him but couldn't really argue, instead returning his attention to the food he’d brought up.

“Dinner was over hours ago but I had the cooks make you something. I hope you don't mind meatloaf.”

Snake didn't respond though the look on his face was one of mild surprise.

“You brought this up from the kitchens?” Snake asked and gave Kaz a quick once over. Where Kaz was still fully clothed in his usual dress (coat and all), Snake was all but naked without even his eye patch. He looked so different like that, his hair down and dripping over his shoulders and his one milky, glass eye exposed to the world. More striking than that, though was his _body_. Kaz might have been there when the Boss fell into a coma but he hadn't seen the full extent of his injuries until now.

Snake stepped closer and Kaz caught a whiff of soap and something decidedly Snake in nature as the Boss dragged the larger of the two containers over and popped it open.

“It looks good,” he said and Kaz couldn't help feeling the small flutter of satisfaction he always used to get whenever Snake even came close to praising him. It was a little embarrassing.

“Well, I thought you’d appreciate a real meal after being in the field for so long,” Kaz mumbled and caught Snake staring at him. The Boss looked tired but somehow content and even went so far as to smile at him.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah...no problem.” They stayed like that for far too long, looking at each other but not speaking, just settling into the new grooves of their relationship, whatever that might be.

Kaz was the first to look away and let his gaze drop to Snake’s chest. There, along with the old curved scar he had before, were a number of marks Kaz didn't recognize. Deep white and pink scars carved into his body and rough patches where the explosion had burned his skin. Kaz felt a fresh wave of rage and ground his teeth until Snake moved, effectively blocking Kaz’s stare.

“First you yell at me for being naked, then you start staring?” Snake snorted in amusement and took up the container and little bundle of silverware before plopping down on the edge of his bed.

“It’s not like that,” Kaz insisted and looked down at his hand on the desk. “I just didn't expect you to have so many. Scars, I mean…”

Snake paused with a forkful of mashed potatoes in hand and frowned, though Kaz hurried on to try and save them both an awkward conversation.

“Anyway, I just came to drop these off, I don't plan on sticking around too long.”

“Yeah?” Snake almost sounded disappointed but Kaz pushed that thought far out of his mind. He knew the Boss, knew how he worked and how much control he had at all times, control of himself and of others. It wasn't often that any emotion he showed wasn't planned and purposeful. He was a master of manipulation after all. Manipulation and charisma, a beautiful combination. Just thinking about the Boss, the old Boss back in ‘74, made Kaz’s chest tighten and he turned to leave, leaning heavily on his crutch.

“What did you eat?”

The question struck Kaz just as he reached the door and he looked at Snake in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“For dinner. What did you eat?”

Kaz frowned. “I told you, the kitchen made meatloaf tonight--”

“And that’s what you had?” Snake insisted between mouthfulls of food, arching his brows at Kaz expectantly. Kaz huffed in annoyance as he thought back over the events of the day; leading Snake through the final stages of his mission, filling out reports on R&D spending--he vaguely remember Ocelot stepping into his office and standing in front of his desk with that slightly arrogant tilt of his head. He’d said something about dinner then, very nearly brought food up unannounced but had enough sense not to poke Kaz too much when he was that busy. That tired. Kaz had assured him he’d make time to eat and had actually meant to. When Ocelot leaned over his desk and demanded his full attention, Kaz found it easiest to agree with him, at least when it came to something as simple as meals. He really had planned on eating, but…

The Boss sighed when Kaz didn’t readily respond and nodded towards the other styrofoam container on the desk.

“What’s in that one?”

Kaz reached for his aviator’s, suddenly feeling vulnerable under Snake’s questions. Vulnerable and a little guilty. It was a silly mistake to make, missing dinner, and not a big one but still.

“Uh, noodles. The instant ones you like. I wasn't sure how hungry you’d be so I, uh, you know, brought both,” Kaz mumbled and pretended not to notice Snake’s frown when he saw the glasses.

“Well, come sit down and eat them.”

“But Boss, I--”

“Kaz.” Snake said his name in a firm tone, a mothering tone, and Kaz felt exceedingly embarrassed. He should just get it over with and leave.

“Fine,” Kaz huffed and shuffled his way back to the bed where Snake had already snatched up the bowl of cooling ramen and offered it to his second in command. The bed wasn't that big and Kaz hesitated when he reached it before settling within the Boss’ reach but not as close as he might like. Kaz could sit closer but there was no reason for it. Now wasn't the time for that.

Kaz took the noodles and tried not to overthink the situation as he balanced the bowl in his lap and let Snake pry the lid off for him. He’d been so preoccupied throughout the day that he hadn't even realized he was hungry, but now, when his concerns for Snake were mostly sated, he could feel his stomach rumble.

“Eat it all,” Snake said from beside him and wiped his fork off on a napkin before offering it to him. Wiping it off wouldn't do anything about the germs but it didn't matter. Kaz mumbled a grumpy thanks and went about the task of trying to eat without making a mess. Ramen probably wasn't the best idea to eat one handed. Kaz hunched over his bowl to avoid making a complete mess of himself but couldn't avoid dripping broth down his chin.

“I’m going to spill this all over your bed,” Kaz grumbled as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “I hope you’re happy.”

“I am.”

Kaz huffed at Snake’s quiet response and lifted his head to glare at him but stopped halfway when he caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

“Sit still,” Snake said and Kaz froze at the feel of a napkin  dabbing at his chin.

“Boss…”

“It’s not that messy, Kaz. Stop over exaggerating.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s going to have a sticky mess to clean up later.” Kaz shook his head and gathered up another forkful of noodles before realizing that Snake was giving him a peculiar look.

“What? What’s that look for?” Kaz narrowed his eyes at him before noticing Snake’s teasing smile. “The broth is sticky,” he insisted and gave Snake a shove when he laughed a little. “What’s the matter with you?”

Snake shook his head at Kaz’s irritated scowling and looped his arm over Kaz’s shoulder.

“Relax, Kaz. Just eat up and I’ll leave you alone.”

Kaz hunched his shoulders under Snake’s touch and stared down at his bowl intently. He knew Snake was trying to bridge the gap between them, to stitch up the nine year wound in their lives but Kaz couldn't bring himself to get close. It was frightening, the thought of getting so entwined with someone again even if it was the Boss.

Back in ‘75 Kaz thought he lost everything, his home, his men, his _life_ , and when the Boss was swept away it left Kaz alone. He’d invested so much in Snake that the realization that the man was mortal shook him to his core. He wouldn't be hurt like that again. He couldn't handle it.

“Kaz?”

“What?” Kaz snapped and tried to shove a forkful of noodles in his mouth with a questionable amount of success.

“Kaz…” Snake slid his arm away in order to catch Kaz’s arm to keep him from stuffing his mouth.

“I’m trying to eat,” Kaz mumbled around his mouthful. He tried to avoid Snake’s gaze but the cool touch of metal on his chin drew his face upwards until it was impossible. All he could see was wet hair and scars and the striking blue of Snake’s eye that had Kaz swallowing hard. Snake was trying to read him, picking him apart, and Kaz knew that a simple pair of aviators wasn't going to be enough to hide everything. He didn't want Snake to see how weak he really was.

“Kaz, how are you feeling?”

“Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that? You’ve been out in the field for days now,” Kaz said and found it difficult to keep up any semblance of his usual grumpy facade. The Boss was just so close and while his metal hand brought memories of pain, his look of concern made Kaz want to fold, to grab Snake and make him understand just how much Kaz had missed him. Ocelot was right, Kaz was too emotional.

Snake frowned at Kaz’s avoidance but didn't press him, instead brushing his fingers over the rough edge of Kaz’s jaw.

“You didn't answer the question,” Snake said and dropped his hand. Kaz turned his face away and sighed heavily.

“I’m fine, Boss. As good as can be expected, anyway.”

“Good, Kaz. That’s good.”

Kaz frowned down at the remainder of his meal and stirred the noodles around absently. He spent years wanting this proximity and missing these times with the Boss and now that he had them he was pulling away.

“I think I’ve had enough for now,” Kaz said and reached for the plastic lid that had been set aside on the bed. “You’ll need some rest, anyway.”

After a brief struggle, Kaz managed to put the lid on his bowl and heaved himself up off the edge of the bed to toss the remains of his meal in the plastic bag on the desk.

“You're leaving?”

“Well...yeah.” Kaz glanced at the Boss over his shoulder and suddenly remembered the first time Snake spoke to him in such a personal way, back when they shared a humid cabin near the Costa Rican beach and Kaz wanted nothing more than to please, to impress.

Snake eyed him a moment before getting to his feet and walking over. He stepped up close enough that Kaz could feel Snake’s warmth and he closed his eyes.

Kaz was torn between wanting the Boss to stop him with a touch to the shoulder, a strong arm around his waist, and wanting to run. Snake really wasn't making things easy for him.

“Alright,” Snake said and dropped his empty styrofoam container on the desk. “Alright Kaz. That’s fine.”

Snake lingered behind him a moment and Kaz wondered if Snake might stop him after all but ultimately the Boss turned away and Kaz could hear the bed creak when he sat down again. Kaz hesitated, glanced towards the bed only briefly, and stepped towards the door. This time when he reached it there was no opposition and he let it swing open freely.

“Um…” Kaz tapped his crutch on the floor a couple times and nodded to himself. “Goodnight, Boss,” he said and stepped out into the hall before Snake could answer. Kaz swung the door shut without looking back and wondered why he felt so guilty.

The hallway was quiet and cold as Kaz made his way towards his room one slow step at a time and let his mind wander along the way. When Kaz had set foot on the original Mother Base for the first time he thought he’d never miss the muddy mess of their old base of operations but when Kaz stepped into his bedroom now with the work piled high on his desk and the small bed shoved in the corner, he missed it. He missed the intimacy of their small operation and he missed the Boss.

As soon as he shut the door behind him, Kaz threw his crutch across the room. He hated himself. He hated himself more than anything for what he was doing, for the mixed signals and the conflicting feelings. He hated so many things and loved so few. Maybe it was better for him to stay in his own space, his own pain. Maybe it was better to let it all go. Feeling hate was simple. Caring for Snake was not.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Venom wanted was some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, this chapter took ages to write and rewrite and oh man it was a process for sure. Writing has been difficult for me lately but I think it's time for me to just let this chapter be and move on. It's pretty wordy (and probably has plenty of grammatical errors with all those damn commas) but I like the idea of experimenting with Venom's head injury and what it could do to him in terms of how he perceives his surroundings.
> 
> Anyway, here's a nice big trigger warning for blood in this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3

Getting some rest on Mother Base was proving to be more of a challenge than Venom originally anticipated. Exhaustion dragged him down and left him heavy beneath the cool sheets of his bed but did little to soothe his nerves. Memories of guilt and blood, sacrifices and mistakes, all played in a continuous loop in Snake’s subconscious waiting for the opportunity to make themselves known. Over the long, dirty years of his life he’d managed to keep these sorts of things at bay for the most part, holding back ghosts and skeletons with bloody hands while accepting the reality of his sins. There was no use denying that everything his mind conjured up--every ghastly scene of loss and destruction--was very real and very much his fault, but acceptance brought little relief.

Closing his burning eyes against the darkness of his room, Snake couldn’t escape the distant burst of explosions and screams of dying men. He watched his home flash and burn behind his eyelids, plummeting into the unforgiving sea. There was nothing he could do to avoid the destruction back then, nine long years ago, and there was nothing he could do now to avoid the pain. There was no escaping it and Snake wasn’t entirely convinced that he deserved to in the first place, but he needed to get control of himself before things got even more out of hand. He needed to sleep.

Time passed at a sluggish pace marked by short lapses in consciousness and moments of panic and fear he couldn’t understand. He was lost in a tangle of sweaty sheets and emotions that wanted nothing more than to suffocate and drag him into some kind of sleep-deprived madness. He couldn’t keep going on like this. If he didn’t get some rest soon his performance would suffer and he’d only weigh the rest of the Diamond Dogs down.

With a ragged sigh, Snake rolled over for the hundredth time and managed to grope around the bedside table for his iDroid. The display was painfully bright in the dark room and only made him feel worse when he noticed it was only 3 am. This wasn’t going to work. Snake dropped his iDroid on the bed and instantly lost it in the blankets as he decided that laying around wasn’t going to do anything for him. His body was sore and tired and fought every move that Snake made as he heaved himself out of bed and stumbled around in search of lights and whatever clothes he found first.

Aside from nightmares of the old Mother Base, Snake often dreamed of the Hospital, of fire and dead patients lying in piles in the halls, which made his room feel tight and confining. If he could find a nice spot somewhere on base where he wouldn’t be disturbed maybe he could catch an hour or two of sleep beneath the stars. He didn’t want to get his hopes up but at the same time he really needed this to work. The last thing he wanted to do was check himself into the infirmary but if he couldn’t figure something out soon that seemed like his only other option. He’d spent enough time in a hospital for one lifetime and really didn’t want to go back to lying in a bed at some doctor’s mercy. The thought made him cringe a little.

Swinging the door open wide, Snake didn’t care that his shirt was wrinkled or his boots were left untied as he shuffled out of his room and into the cool morning air, and he didn’t stop to think about bringing anything else with him. He only thought of relief and whatever he might do to find it. The dark halls and stairwells of the command platform were a little disorienting at first, Snake’s eye having difficulty focusing on any one thing in the hazy gray mess around him. He didn’t have a spot in mind, no destination laid out for him to make things simple, but he trudged on anyway.

The promise of fresh air drew Snake out onto an open walkway and for a moment he was certain that the ocean had vanished, replaced with some black void that threatened to swallow them all at any moment. He strained to separate sky from sea but there was no sign of the moon or even a hint of starlight. The steady strobe of red lights on a nearby crane was the only thing keeping Snake grounded as he leaned on the walkway’s railing and struggled to make out the platform below. Eventually shapes started to form: the temporary shower, boxes of materials and construction equipment, things he recognized as real and present. The main floor of the command platform was by far the most familiar to him and seemed a good enough place to start in his search for peace of mind.

Despite him knowing better, Snake’s mind couldn’t fully abandon the conjured image of death surrounding them, even when he finally managed to reach the platform floor and heard the waves kicking up salty spray below. He wished he could see the stars like he used to; he wished he could see everything like he used to, without the ghost of their former lives dulling his sight. He wanted light in his outer heaven.

Small, dim lights winked at him here and there on the platform, marking walkways and railings that he followed blindly, drawn to them like some broken insect. It was a pointless journey abandoned before Snake managed to circle the entire platform, and left him standing in the heavy darkness with only the cold metal railing to keep him from drifting away.

Snake leaned forward and dropped his head onto his arms folded over the railing. It wasn’t comfortable and his head ached from the added pressure against the shrapnel in his skull but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The old Mother Base came to mind in that moment without the usual screaming of casualties and Venom could remember moments like these. It was all pretty hazy to him, a distant memory seen through clouded glass, but there was one spot in particular that he could remember vividly; a secluded place meant for sunset viewing and private moments. It was a small deck high up on the command platform where Kaz would sit and watch the sun, and some days he’d stay up there for hours with his guitar.

It was odd how clear the image was, a snapshot in pristine condition, when most of his memories fell apart in a murky cloud of uncertainty. There were little details like that or the beach in Costa Rica that felt so close to him, like he was still there lying in the sand, yet other things, more important things, came to him in jagged pieces. Even his short-term memory failed him now and again when Ocelot’s words evaporated and Kaz’s briefings fell away beneath that same confusion that haunted his nights here. It was all very difficult to understand, but in the end he remembered the sunsets and the sound of Kaz’s singing and he clung to those few happy moments with everything he had. He focused on them so intently it almost seemed real, like he could hear the songs again without the perpetual sound of gunfire crackling in his ears.

Quiet and lilting, it took Snake a few moments to realize that the singing might not be his imagination. The voice seemed to swell up from the ocean like a siren’s song that grew closer and closer until Snake could make out words and accompanying footsteps. He’d heard this song before.

Eventually the singing dissolved into a mild humming and Snake could feel a man walk up beside him. He smelled of liquor and sunscreen, a distinct combination that he found familiar and oddly relaxing.

Snake could hear the man sigh, felt an arm brush his own and wondered if he was dreaming.

“I didn’t expect to find you out this early, Boss.”

Venom took in a deep breath and managed to lift his head enough to look out at the black waves.

“You should be getting some sleep, you know. We’ve got a lot of work to do around here.”

“Kaz?”

“Yeah?”

Snake turned his head but didn’t quite look at him; he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Snake?” The warm weight of Kaz’s hand on his arm was so familiar that Snake couldn’t bring himself to shrug it off even when the soft pad of his thumb started to rub at the inside of Snake’s wrist. Kaz used to do little things like that a lot back in their MSF days, didn’t he? Little intimate touches when he least expected them. He thought back to Kaz sitting beside him on his bed the night before, always at a distance, always avoiding.

“Are you alright?” This time when Kaz spoke he leaned closer, touched Venom’s shoulder with one hand and his cheek with the other, and Venom couldn’t avoid looking any longer. “You don’t look so good…”

Kaz frowned at him with a too-young face and spoke in a too-warm voice, touched his face with fingers that shouldn’t exist, and looked at him with affection Snake wasn’t sure Kaz would ever possess again.

“Kaz, it’s you.” Snake felt his chest tighten and his head throb painfully. This shouldn’t be happening.

Kaz looked momentarily confused but managed a smile anyway. “Uh, yeah. It sure is,” he said and seemed to eye Snake closely from behind his glasses. “Were you expecting someone else?” Kaz dropped his hands then, looking mildly irritated at the idea and Venom shook his head dumbly.

“No. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“Huh.” Kaz rubbed at the back of his neck and looked around the platform.

“Kaz…” Venom reached for him but stopped when he caught sight of his bionic arm. He stared at his metal fingers and didn’t know what to think.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Boss? What are you doing out here anyway? There really isn’t much to look at this morning,” Kaz said and Snake followed his gaze out into the darkness surrounding the base.

“I...couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.” Kaz spoke casually but Snake could feel his gaze on him again. There was a moment when neither of them spoke and Venom found himself staring at a man he might never see again. “You know, I guess I couldn't sleep either. Thought I might walk a few laps around base, tire myself out or something. You must have had the same idea?” Kaz looked at him and Snake wanted nothing more than to grab him and hold on tight, to keep this vibrant Kaz alive as long as possible.

“I guess,” Snake said without any real certainty.

“You wanna walk with me?”

Snake looked back at the sleeping platform and when he didn’t readily respond he could feel Kaz leaning in closer.

“We don’t have to talk or anything, just walk. C’mon, Boss, do it for me,” Kaz said, his voice quiet and touched with a flirtatious teasing that made it difficult to refuse. Venom knew that, logically, this was wrong but couldn’t bring himself to deny Kaz’s presence. He wanted Kaz to be there, he wanted to believe that this was his second-in-command standing beside him smiling like nothing had happened, like everything hadn’t been taken away from them. He wanted to feel whatever shallow comfort he could, even if it was a lie.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” Snake said and wondered why it felt so good to watch the younger man push away from the railing and step in front of him with some sense of childish excitement. Kaz looked so triumphant as he took a few steps back and waved for Venom to follow him. He was so energetic, so _alive_ in every sense of the word and it almost brought a smile to Snake’s face.

“Then it’s settled. I was thinking about heading out to another platform but this should be fine. Walking a couple laps around here should do the trick.”

Snake was slow to step towards him but didn’t hesitate further, matching Kaz’s stride as they started off around the platform’s outer edge. It was oddly satisfying to hear their boots thud in tandem and Snake tried to recall other moments like this, times they’d shared together in quiet, personal ways. He couldn’t come up with specifics, frowned when all he got were scraps of potential situations and the occasional image of Kaz in surprisingly sharp detail. They must have gone on walks like this a lot on Mother Base but beyond their time spent on the beach, Snake couldn’t remember. He must have taken a lot of things for granted back then without realizing it but things were different now. He’d remember this, he was sure of it.

Their steady rhythm made it easy for Snake’s mind to wander and before he knew it they’d nearly reached the Helipad where his fruitless journey began and Kaz turned towards the stairwell in some poorly veiled attempt at discreetly leading Snake back towards his room. Snake didn’t hold it against him or stray from Kaz’s chosen path but he did slow his steps once they mounted the stairs, reluctant to end their little stroll. Kaz hovered close on his left side where Snake could see him and reach for a sleeve no longer left empty. They weren’t far from Snake’s room and somehow the thought of returning to the small, empty space made him nervous. He knew that once he let this young Kaz go he wouldn’t see him again and that fact had him stopping in the middle of the hallway, his metal hand pulling at Kaz’s sleeve like some frightened child refusing to go any further.

“Boss?” Kaz stopped a step ahead of him and Snake struggled to read him in the darkness of the enclosed hallway, Kaz’s glasses a dark wall between them. “What’s the matter?”

Snake looked down at his hand and wished that he could feel the fabric between his bionic fingers as he gave Kaz’s sleeve another insistent tug to draw him closer. Kaz relented easily and only pulled back when Snake reached for his face, though he caught himself with a quiet mumbled apology. The glasses felt so light and delicate in Snake’s hands when he slid them off of Kaz’s face and quietly tucked them away in the breast pocket of his uniform. He remembered the dazed look in Kaz’s eyes when he found him in Afghanistan and how even the tinted lenses couldn’t hide the extent of the bruising and swelling on his face. But that was something else, a different day and a different man.

“Boss…” Kaz looked at him with an unwavering trust and admiration Snake couldn’t forget no matter how bad his memory was.

The clear blue of his eyes was a welcome sight. Somehow it was reassuring to look at him and feel him looking back without the milky haze adding yet another barrier between Snake and the bitter Kaz he spoke to some hours ago. It was difficult at times to believe that they were even the same person and Snake thought, for the briefest moment, that maybe this was the “real” Kaz after all and the weary man he met before was the dream. But he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it.

The warmth of Kaz’s hand on his shoulder made Snake sigh and look away.

“Not yet.” The words were less than a whisper yet more than Snake meant to say.

“What?” Kaz spoke softly with an air of confusion. “You look so run down I just thought…”

Snake looked down at Kaz’s hand when it tried to slip away but caught it out of instinct.

“I’m not ready,” Snake whispered. “I’m not.” He wasn’t ready for a lot of things but he had to remind himself that it didn’t matter; he’d manage anyway because he had to. That’s just how things were.

“Snake…”

“Just a little longer, alright?” Snake said and forced himself to look up again but Kaz was closer now and it was difficult to meet his stare.

“That’s fine,” Kaz said in a low voice that had Venom watching intently as each word formed on his lips. “We can do whatever you want, Boss.”

Snake knew what he wanted, understood it clearly even in such a surreal situation and it didn’t take him long to reach for it. Their eyes met only briefly but long enough for Snake to see the same small glimmer of desperation that he felt reflected in Kaz’s eyes. He shouldn't feel this way, as if this was their only chance for something declarative. They’d done this before, they’d known each other in every sense of the word yet Venom felt a pressing urgency to indulge in this unmarked Kaz, to make up for everything he ever took for granted.

The feeling of fingers in his hair drew Snake closer into a kiss that was all but inevitable and every bit as powerful and striking as he expected from someone as passionate as Kaz. For a moment Snake was lost in it, busy picking up every detail of lips and tongue, teeth and the slight bite of alcohol on Kaz’s breath. He felt so warm in Snake’s arms, strong and eager with short breathy groans and hands that knew Snake better than he knew himself. Everything about Kaz spoke of willingness, a willingness to do whatever Venom asked for and he was more than ready to ask for everything.

This was what he wanted to remember, the press of palms against his chest and the cold metal wall at his back, Kaz’s eyes and a glimpse of a breathless smile between frantic kissing. He wanted to remember the way Kaz groaned for him and pulled at his belt loops like Snake was the only thing he’d ever wanted. Maybe he should find it odd how important it was to feel Kaz’s desire so pointedly, and maybe it shouldn't matter as much as it did but Venom didn't care. He’d been through enough in his life, seen enough, and _lost_ enough, that allowing himself one simple pleasure seemed justifiable. If he just let it happen, tilted his head back against the wall and focused on the way Kaz’s hands slid up beneath his shirt and the pressure of teeth on his neck, things seemed so much simpler. Who could think of nightmares or responsibilities at a time like this?

The rough sound of Kaz’s voice against his ear had Snake curling him closer still and turning to pin him against the wall.

“Kaz.” Snake leaned in to kiss at his jaw and hurriedly worked the buttons of his shirt open. “I’m glad you're here,” he whispered against the warmth of Kaz’s throat and pulled his shirt down off his shoulders to get at soft, pale skin.

“Glad to be here, Boss.” Kaz managed a breathy laugh and gripped Snake’s hair tighter. “Fuck, Snake.”

Snake’s fingertips took the time to map out his body inch by inch, his hand drifting over ribs and firm muscle as Kaz arched against him and drew Snake’s wandering mouth back up to his throat. The feel of Kaz’s pulse thrumming beneath his tongue had Snake groaning and reaching down between them with a mounting sense of impatience.

“Snake—“ Kaz’s voice caught slightly and he pushed his hips into Venom’s eager hands which pulled at his belt insistently. “Snake, hurry.”

Snake’s pulse pounded in his ears with the heady rush that came with Kaz’s groans and he found himself drowning in a familiar heat that prickled beneath his skin. This was his Kaz gripping at his shirt and breathing harshly against his temple, his brilliant commander with the bright smiles and a voice that lingered with him like a dream. Snake focused on the heavy rasp of Kaz’s breathing and wondered how he could ever forget something like this.

“Snake…” The button of Kaz’s pants gave way easily and Snake grinned.

“Snake.” Kaz’s voice rose and Snake could feel his fingers digging into his back with a growing urgency.

_“Snake.”_ Venom’s hand felt warm and wet, his fingers slipping and pressing against skin that gave way beneath his touch.

“Kaz, what—“ There was the sound of dripping, a steady spatter and Venom could feel the blood slipping through his fingers before he saw it. Looking down between them, for a moment there was only red and Venom couldn’t move. Kaz went stiff, his breathing ragged and the next time he spoke it was with the sharp sound of pain.

“Oh God, Snake.” His voice broke and he shook with violent spasms that seemed to split him wide open. Snake reached out instinctively, groped at Kaz’s stomach to hold him together, keep everything inside, but the wound grew wider and wider and everything spilled over his hands. The stench of blood claimed him, making Venom’s eyes water as he struggled to catch the heavy ropes of intestines that fell over his arms. He almost missed the low, ominous beeping in his panic but there was no mistaking the hard bundle that fell into his hand, a small red light blinking at its center.

Bombs. He remembered this. Bombs--more than one, there was more than one. He had to get them this time, he had to get them all, but one after another they just kept coming. They slipped from his hands, fell to the floor; his hands were failing him.

“Kaz, I can’t—I’m trying. There’s so many. I can’t—“ Venom grabbed up as many as he could, threw them blindly down the hall in his panic. They were going to explode, they were going to lose everything again and when he looked up Kaz wouldn’t face him. The color had drained from his face, leaking out with the rest of him and Venom reached for him desperately, smeared blood on his cheeks and stared into white eyes that saw nothing and reflected the ominous red light of C4.

“I don’t know what to do—Kaz, I can’t.”

The beeping grew louder and louder and the bombs piled up at his feet until he couldn’t see, couldn’t think, and there was nothing left but the pain of burning skin and shrapnel. Explosions, fire and smoke and destruction everywhere, he couldn’t escape them and couldn’t avoid them. Everything he knew and loved was consumed by bursts of light and pain that left him alone in a faded world he wouldn’t remember anyway.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a rough morning for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took too long to write. If the intro and ending sound a bit awkward it's because they are but I'm sick of trying to fix them so I'm just going to post it.  
> I did some minor research for this chapter but it's probably still pretty incorrect so I apologize for my lack of knowledge about seizures. I tried, friends.

 Ocelot was a light sleeper. He’d trained himself over the years to pick up on even the slightest disturbance, from the quiet sound of footfalls to that unmistakable _feeling_ of being watched, and tried to be ready for anything and anyone. He invested a lot of time and energy into acquiring such skills and the subsequent quick reflexes needed to defend himself at a moment’s notice, yet waking up to the sound of footsteps or creaking doors was one thing, and waking up to what sounded like a bag of bricks falling in the hallway was another thing altogether.

Ocelot jerked awake with a suddenness that had his heart racing and his hands reaching instinctively for the gun beside his bed. He’d already snatched up the revolver and swung his legs off the mattress by the time he realized that whatever had caused the sound wasn't an immediate threat to him.  His room remained still, dark, and silent aside from the low, huffy growling coming from among his pillows.

“Shh, DD.” Ocelot reached out to find the pup and gave him a quick, reassuring pat before he could escalate to full on barking. The small pup was sitting rigid and alert, and Ocelot could feel him trembling slightly beneath his hand as he strained to hear anything else from beyond the heavy bedroom door. There was hardly a moment’s pause before Ocelot could make out an odd, rhythmic sound in the hallway. It was dull like someone pounding on a wall with their fist but lacked any structure to suggest that it was intentional.

Ocelot slipped out of bed, gun-in-hand and paused at his door just long enough to listen for voices before unlocking it as quietly as possible. As soon as he cracked the door open he was struck by a feeling of dread. The pounding and rustling of clothes was sporadic, unnatural, and _wrong_. He’d heard something like this before, he realized, and more than once but always in a very specific circumstance with very specific tools whose only purpose was to harm. Someone was in trouble and for a brief moment he found himself sincerely hoping it wasn’t Miller.

Ocelot wasted little time in stepping out into the hallway but didn't make it far in the early morning darkness before he saw him, facedown and thrashing uncontrollably just outside of Miller’s door.

“Boss--”

“Don’t touch him.” Miller’s voice was sharp and unexpected; tearing Ocelot’s attention away from Snake’s shaking body just long enough for him to find the Commander in the darkness. Miller was looming in his doorway dressed in only a pair of sweats and from the look on his face he was just as shocked as Ocelot to find their Boss in such a vulnerable and uncontrollable state.

“What happened?” Ocelot demanded and stepped closer despite Miller’s warning glare. “Miller--”

“He’s--it’s a seizure. Been about 30 or 40 seconds now. Fuck…” Miller looked down at Snake with a helplessness Ocelot had never seen in those pale eyes before. “Just--okay, your shirt,” Miller said and waved emphatically. “Take it off and wad it up there to protect his head. Just be careful.”

Ocelot didn’t hesitate, tucking his revolver in the waistband of his pants and peeling his shirt off. He knelt down near Snake’s head to wedge the cloth as carefully as possible between his skull and the metal wall and couldn’t help but stare at that big body convulsing in ways he’d always imagined being much more alluring.

“What do we do?” he asked, spotting dark smears of blood on the floor around Snake’s face. “He’s bleeding.”

“Nothing. We do nothing until he stops.”

“The medical team?” Ocelot looked up at Miller expectantly and found the Commander hesitating. “Go call them, I’ll watch him,” Ocelot insisted and met Miller’s stare. The man had trusted Ocelot with the Boss’ life for nine long years and he wouldn't stop then. Miller turned and hobbled back into his room as quickly as he could. It wasn't long until Ocelot caught the sound of his voice but he was too preoccupied with the Boss’ slowing spasms to care about what Miller was saying. The next few seconds dragged on for far too long before Snake finally settled and Ocelot could reach out to cautiously check his pulse.

“Miller?”

“How’s his breathing? We shouldn't move him but...he’s bleeding?” Ocelot glanced up and found that Miller had walked up beside him and was struggling to sink down on his knees. “Let me look. Shit, I hope he didn't bite his tongue.”

Miller leaned over and hesitated, his single hand hovering over Snake’s head until Ocelot reached out to help.

“Be careful, don’t force it,” Miller said as Ocelot gently turned Snake’s head enough to see his face. The Boss looked tense, his face tinted blue and smeared with blood and saliva, and his eyes rolling behind fluttering lids as Miller leaned in close, his hand brushing hair from his face. Ocelot could see his pale eyes working against the darkness to find any sign of further trouble.

“So?”

“I think...I think it’s his nose but I’m not sure...” Miller drawled off as the distant clatter of footsteps and the metallic rattle of what Ocelot could only assume was a gurney rose from the main floor of the platform.  “He’ll be alright. He’s come too far to let this sort of thing take him down. Let’s just focus on his breathing.”

Ocelot had to agree with him on that front, though it didn’t make it any easier to look on helplessly as Miller rubbed at Snake’s back to get him to breathe and the medical team climbed the stairs with flashlights and equipment to assess the situation.

Neither of them moved even as the doctors approached to take over and only after the main physician assured them that they could handle it from there, that Snake was going to be just fine, did Ocelot rise to his feet. Miller stayed on the floor, dragging himself away from the scene and leaning against the wall as they watched the team work. It was painful to watch them try to rouse Snake from his unconscious state and Ocelot knew that the Commander must have shared his feelings of dread when the Boss didn’t wake, judging by the intensity of his stare. Snake’s body was turned over with great care and lifted onto a stretcher where Ocelot could get a good look at his bloodied face. His nose was still bleeding from the looks of it and he could see a bruise already forming where Snake’s head hit the floor.

“So, what the Hell happened?” Ocelot looked between the members of the Medical team and down at Miller expecting answers. “Miller--”

“Fuck if I know. He was fine when I left…” he said and paused long enough to steady himself.

“I just saw him...he was talking normally, nothing out of the ordinary--I don’t know.” Miller huffed in frustration and sounded distracted as they watched Snake get strapped down and wheeled towards the stairwell. Ocelot had to say he was impressed with how calmly Miller had handled things given how prone he was to outbursts of rage and anxiety. Say what you want about the man and his temperament but he could certainly handle himself under pressure.

“You just saw him?” Ocelot eyed him closely though the Commander wasn’t paying him any attention.

“Christ, I should follow them down,” Miller said, already groping around for his crutch in the darkness. Ocelot sighed and stepped over to help him up despite their shared reluctance. “I just don’t see how this could happen. Did he have any signs of seizures while in the hospital?”

There was an awkward moment of contact where Ocelot helped Miller limp back towards his room until they nearly stumbled over his crutch on the floor.

“Well, I didn’t hear anything about seizures, no, but they aren’t uncommon with head injuries.”

“But nine years after the fact?” Miller snorted and was quick to take the crutch and shrug off Ocelot’s help.

“Sure. Head injuries can be pretty unpredictable so I wouldn’t be surprised if that had something to do with it,” Ocelot said and made sure Miller was steady before turning to retrieve his shirt from the floor. He crouched down to pick it up and paused long enough to reach out and trace the smears of blood Snake left behind. It felt warm between his bare fingers and slightly gritty with dirt. There wasn’t much of it, thankfully, and some had grown tacky by the time Ocelot touched it, making him frown and wipe his hand on his rumpled shirt.

“I wonder why he was out here.”

Miller didn’t respond and for a moment Ocelot thought that he’d already left but when he turned to head back to his room he found the Commander standing in Snake’s doorway. Miller was completely still, gazing into the dark room as Ocelot stepped up beside him.

“It was open,” he said and Ocelot followed his stare into the darkness, wondering what he could possibly see in there.

“Odd…not like him to be so careless.” Ocelot frowned, realizing he must have overlooked the open door in his hurry to help the Boss and moved to step around Miller in search of a light switch. He found one easily enough and stood blinking in the sudden brightness for several moments before he could actually get a good look at the room.

Ocelot didn’t expect it to be spotless by any means but the explosive mess he found was far beyond the dirty clothes and low-key clutter he thought he would find. The room was torn to bits, dresser drawers hanging open, clothes lying in piles on the floor, some neatly folder others looking as though they’d been kicked across the room, and the bed was nearly stripped bare of its sheets.

“You said you were here earlier?” Ocelot drawled and glanced at Miller only briefly but the Commander had all but forgotten he was there. Miller pushed past him carelessly and stared at the carnage with a look of disbelief.

“What...” He narrowed his eyes as he took everything in and nearly tripped over a pair of boots when he tried to step deeper inside. “It was fine when I left, everything was fine…” He shook his head and struggled to pick his way across the room without his prosthetic to help him along. Ocelot followed behind him slowly, taking stock of any items of interest and watching Miller’s reactions closely. The Commander stopped at Snake’s desk which was more or less left untouched save for a few Styrofoam containers and twisted napkins, and when Miller didn’t make any signs of further investigation Ocelot decided to do some digging of his own.

He stepped over clothes of all sorts, belts, and various harnesses, and headed for the bedside table where a stack of cassette tapes caught his eye. The stacks were surprisingly neat despite the chaos of the room and interspersed with scraps of paper and photos that Snake must have kept around to help with his memory. Ocelot recognized some of the tapes as ones he’d recorded on their journey to Afghanistan and others were from Miller detailing events that took place over the past nine years, judging by the titles. The Boss’ iDroid was nowhere to be seen but Ocelot did find his Walkman buried among the pillows, its earbuds tangled and dangling from the bed.

“When did you come to visit him?” Ocelot asked, breaking the tense silence in the room and glancing over his shoulder at the Commander who had since leaned against the wall beside the desk. Miller took a moment to register the question and looked up from where he’d been staring at something in his hand. Ocelot only caught a glimpse of what looked like one of the crumpled napkins before Miller curled his fingers around it, hiding it from view.

“A few hours ago. I brought him dinner,” he said and nodded towards the empty containers on the desk. “It wasn’t like this when I left. He was acting fine, I have no idea…” Miller sighed, sounding tired and agitated with Ocelot’s questioning. “You told me he was combat-ready.”

Ocelot arched a brow at him, not appreciating his sudden accusatory tone. “He is. You’ve seen what he can do; he’s perfectly capable of handling himself--”

“Obviously not,” Miller snapped and Ocelot rolled his eyes at the Commander’s displaced anger. “This could have happened anywhere. What if he was out there, huh? He’d be…we’d have one hell of a mess on our hands. I wouldn’t be surprised if all of that _junk_ you injected him with had something to do with this.”

Ocelot nearly laughed, turning away from him again and removing the tape from Snake’s Walkman to see what it was.

“I hope you realize that all of that “junk” is what made it possible for him to save you. Without it I’m sure we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Ocelot said and paused a moment when he realized that the tape in his hand was one of the first that Miller had recorded after he was rescued.

_Snake listened to the Commander before he went to sleep. Interesting._

“I wouldn’t have let him leave if I had suspected this might be an issue. No one could have predicted this, Miller,” Ocelot continued after returning the tape to Snake’s Walkman and setting it aside. “I suggest you stop and _think_ before you start pointing fingers.”

Miller huffed but seemed to retain enough composure to think rationally and avoid another outburst.

Ocelot gave nine years of his life to protect Snake and if the Commander honestly thought he would do anything that might endanger the Boss’ life then he was more of a fool than Ocelot had originally thought. He trusted that Miller would put aside any grievances they might have in order to meet their goals and hoped he’d learn to trust Ocelot’s loyalty to the Boss if nothing else. This wasn’t about either of them, after all; it was much bigger than that.

A heavy silence settled in around them when Miller didn’t offer any further argument and Ocelot gave the room one final scan before facing the Commander. It was an odd scene to be sure, the two of them ruffled and barely clothed in the early morning hours standing bare-faced and gloveless among a wreckage neither of them fully understood. They were on equal footing here (metaphorically at any rate) and Ocelot could see Miller coming to the same conclusion; a sort of begrudging trust and solidarity.

Miller was the first to break the silence, sighing heavily and looking away before he spoke. “Whatever the cause, we’ll have to make sure this doesn’t happen again,” he said and while he stared at the door he made no move to leave and Ocelot noticed him fiddling with the same odd object he picked up earlier.

“That might not be altogether possible if it has something to do with his injuries. I’m sure we can find some preventative measures but there’s no guarantee he won’t have another seizure.” Ocelot stepped towards him as he spoke despite Miller’s obvious glaring. Of course that wasn’t what the Commander wanted to hear but Ocelot was in the business of information, facts, and realistic expectations, he wasn’t one to sugar coat things unless there was some benefit to it.

“Right, whatever. We’re not doing any good just standing here. I’m going down to check on him--”

“What’s that?” Ocelot nodded down at Miller’s hand and gave the desk a quick once-over. “A napkin?”

For a moment Miller looked as though he might ignore Ocelot altogether, obviously not appreciating his interruption though his curiosity seemed to get the best of him.

“Yeah. Looks like he tried to fold it. Some sort of sloppy origami, maybe, but it wasn’t stiff enough to hold its shape.”

“Origami?” Ocelot frowned and looked at the wadded up napkins a little more closely. He could see bits that were twisted and crumpled but wouldn’t have noticed any signs of structure if he wasn’t specifically looking for it. “I never knew the Boss to be the crafty type.”

Miller hummed in agreement and turned the limp figure over between his fingers. It hardly looked like anything identifiable but was much more obvious than the other scraps.

“What is it? Some sort of...bird, maybe?” Ocelot reached for it and Miller pulled away, taking his time in observing each fold closely.

“I don’t think so. I think...I think it’s a butterfly,” Miller said and let the wilted figure lay flat in his palm, stroking his thumb over what could have been a wing.

“A butterfly…” Ocelot wasn’t convinced but figured it didn’t actually matter what it was, just the fact that it was made in the first place was enough to pique his interest. “I wonder where he learned to make it. And why.”

Miller shook his head and went to gently set the napkin down among the others.

“I don’t know.” He spoke slowly and Ocelot could see him trying to piece something together but didn’t bother asking for details. Whatever it was that Miller was trying to figure out Ocelot doubted he’d explain it to him but that didn’t matter. Ocelot was perfectly capable of finding what he needed on his own.

“Well, whatever. We’ll just have to ask him when he’s up on his feet again. I think he’ll have a bit of explaining to do.” Ocelot turned away from Miller then and walked to the door, leaving him behind to stare at his scraps and only pausing once he’d stepped out into the hallway.

“Oh, just so we’re clear, I imagine you won’t be broadcasting this little “episode” to our men,” Ocelot said and arched a brow at Miller’s subsequent frown. “We wouldn't want to worry them about the Boss’ condition before we even know what we’re dealing with.”

Miller’s frown only deepened as he pushed away from the wall and gradually hobbled his way back to the door. He didn’t actually respond but offered a curt nod, obviously not pleased with any aspect of the situation.

“I’ll run drills as usual and make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

Miller flipped off the light and swung the door shut behind him with a surprisingly loud thud, casting Ocelot a quick scowl before heading down the hallway.

“Good,” Miller said as he made his way slowly back to his room, the sound of his crutch echoing slightly in the enclosed hallway.

“Oh, and Miller?” The Commander stopped before he could disappear into his room, sighing heavily and settling Ocelot in an exasperated stare.

“What is it?”

“Keep an eye on Snake for me,” Ocelot said and held Miller’s gaze as the look of irritation drained from his face, replaced with something cautious and mildly surprised. “He’s going to need some rest today and I’m sure he won’t know what happened so…” Ocelot lifted a shoulder, looking as nonchalant as possible while Miller stared through him with those milky white eyes.

The Commander didn’t say anything for a long moment, simply nodding and glancing down at the Boss’ blood left barely visible in the faint morning glow that seeped in from the stairwell.

“I’ll take care of him.”

“I know you will.” Ocelot didn’t look down again, for once didn’t want to think about Snake bleeding, and instead turned away to head back to his own room. “Just be glad you’re only on babysitting duty for one day instead of nine years,” he said and only barely caught Miller’s bitter scoffing as he reached his open door and stepped inside without looking back.

Ocelot found comfort in his room, in the smell of gun oil and the soft yipping welcome he received from his sleepy roommate when he stepped up to his bed.

“Well, DD, that really wasn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” he said and sighed heavily as he got a good look at the clock and realized that going back to sleep really wasn’t an option. “Looks like we’ll be making our rounds a little earlier than usual today. You ready to go?” Ocelot cast the drowsy puppy a glance and wasn’t surprised in the least to find him hunkering down for another snooze. “Yeah, me neither.” Ocelot sat down on the edge of his bed for a long moment, absently stroking DD’s belly and trying to think through exactly what had happened.

John was hurt, injured and altered in ways Ocelot couldn’t begin to fix or fully understand, that much was certain, and Ocelot wasn’t used to seeing such vulnerability in the man. It was almost frightening, in a way, seeing John’s humanity on full display like that. Ocelot would have to work harder from here on out, find every one of Snake’s little problems and weak points in order to better understand him and how they could help keep him safe. It would be difficult and time-consuming but Ocelot was ready.

Getting to his feet again, Ocelot retrieved his revolver from his waistband and returned it to its place on his bedside table before going about his usual morning routine, all the while thinking back to Snake’s room, to the tapes, the napkins, the open door, Miller’s nighttime visit--he wasn’t sure what it all amounted to just yet but he did know that it meant trouble.

Trouble was something they were all too familiar with around here but Ocelot knew that mulling over their misfortune wouldn’t do any good. They had a lot more work to do in order to reach their goals and with Snake momentarily out of commission Ocelot would have to start pulling a little extra weight. He’d contact some people, do a little extra research, and keep Diamond Dogs on track. It wouldn’t be easy but he never expected it to be. He couldn’t allow one rough morning to set them back, so, with his gloves pulled on and a sleepy DD tucked away in his coat, Ocelot found himself ready to take on the future. He’d do whatever he could to reach their goals, not for Miller or for the Diamond Dogs but for him; for John. He’s all that really mattered.


End file.
